Broken
by RukiaRae
Summary: AU Raven is a patient in a 1940's mental hospital and hasn't said a word in 13 years...what happens when two new additions to the ward attempt to change that? Rated T for now, rating may go up Rae/Rob, some Rae/Aqua NEW CHAPTER UP!
1. Chapter 1

**This is a fic that I thought of after re-watching House, season 6 episode 1. This story is set in the late 1940's/early 1950's. Disclaimer: I don't own House or the Teen Titans.**

**Enjoy!**

**~RukiaRae**

**The Ward**

She sat in the cold, metal chair at the edge of the white 'common room', staring out into the grey distance. Today, the clouds hung low over Gotham city, giving it a grey, lifeless appearance. She gazed out, past the rusting bars, to the street, examining each of the passerbys since nothing else was occurring today. This was how she'd spent most of her days, silently looking out the windows.

Had she also not been an avid reader, many would have thought her to be mentally incapable. However, she had read each book that was offered several times. The staff hated dealing with her, they were unnerved by the weight of her calculating gaze, she didn't need words to make them feel inferior. So it came as no surprise to the girl when she heard the faint bickering behind her, their harsh whispers, each trying to avoid addressing the girl. Finally, she stood up, glaring at the two nurses. Noticing the commotion from behind the guarded watch area, another nurse emerged, scolding the other nurses for being so insensitive.

She then escorted the tiny girl to the doctor's door, wishing her luck, before rushing to resume her post in the common area, her firey hair trailing behind her.

Each Tuesday, she had a mandatory visit with the head of the ward. He would ask her some questions, as protocol directed, and hoped to get an answer out of her. He never did. Gently she knocked on the door with the plaque that read Dr. Slade Wilson. She always dreaded these visits.

"Have a seat," said the man, his voice feigning concern, gesturing to a comfortable grey sofa directly across the room. Yet, despite the comfortable cushions, the petite girl sat rigidly, feeling anything _but _at home in that office.

The girl sat, patiently waiting for the man to pull his desk chair around the desk, and sit it right in front of her, as he did every other visit.

"How are you doing this week?" asked the man, directly meeting her disinterested gaze.

He had his clipboard out, ready to take notes. The girl quickly glanced at his notes before the man shifted, hiding them from her view. All she managed to see, scrawled at the top in abysmal handwriting, was the name Raven. They had gotten her name wrong, but no one was really surprised about that. Since she never told them her name, and she had no family left to speak of (at least none that would claim her), they'd decided to give her a name. After several days, this name was selected because it was what caught her attention most when she looked outside.

Silence stretched between them as they stared each other down.

Finally, the man gave a sigh, pinching the bridge of his skinny, hook nose.

"You've been here 13 years, and _not once _have you said anything. At first we figured it was trauma, but we no longer know what to do anymore. I think we'll have to start with new treatment soon if this doesn't change."

Again, a pause. The girl could tell the man was disappointed that she hadn't seized the opportunity to speak, however, the threat of a new treatment no longer scared her. She noticed the stress lines that marred his face, but still refused to speak. Finally, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed her.

She rose gracefully and returned to the same spot she had been previously, once again allowing her violet orbs to keep their silent vigil. Eventually, she lost track of the amount of time she was at that window, but she figured it had been a few hours considering that she could see the other patients shuffling in for dinner.

* * *

"Sir, I think he has been broken. You may have no choice but to send him to Gotham City's mental institutions, for his own good. They have the best doctors in town working there, maybe they'll find a way to treat him," came the scratchy voice over the phone.

Bruce felt his heart clench for his son, "You're sure there's nothing that can be done for him?"

"I don't think there's anything you can do for him. I think the mental institution is his last hope."

Bruce ran a hand through his disheveled, gray hair, feeling the pressure of the decision before him. He felt partially responsible for his son's breakdown, however, all of the doctors he'd talked to said the same thing-there was nothing he could do for the boy now.

With a long sigh, Bruce finally responded, "Alright, you may admit him. But I will be checking in regularly, and if I find anything I disagree with, I will have him out immediately."

The doctor on the other line didn't answer the threat, but instead, answered with, "Okay, I'll make the arrangements."

* * *

She had seen everyone come into the ward, and some of them go, so it came as no surprise to her when the next day a tall, well built man with gray hair and wrinkles that betrayed his age was touring the facilities with what appeared to be his son. His son, much like him, was well built with deep onyx hair. She was about to glance away and continue watching the outdoors, when his eyes met hers. They were the coldest shade of blue she'd ever seen, like ice, and she found herself captivated, unable to look away until he left.

She also noted, with some curiosity, that there was another family trailing behind them, with a rather...green child making odd sounds. They sounded like...growls perhaps? The girl shook her head, her short onyx hair flying about. _It is not sensible to dwell on those admitted here, they probably will not make it, or they will be forever changed by this place. It's unavoidable. _

* * *

Dr. Wilson had decided to give this tour personally. This would be, after all, his biggest client. Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, had to admit his foster son to the institution. Naturally, he was very stern about what he would allow and what would cause him to withdraw Richard from care at the facilities. Dr. Wilson listened attentively, sure to note what was considered unacceptable. It would not do to lose this patient.

"This is the common area. They are allowed to hang around here until bedtime at 10pm, when it becomes mandatory that they move to their rooms with the lights out," continued Dr. Wilson. Bruce nodded, internalizing this bit of information. The parents of the other rabid boy also noted this detail and looked with curiosity at those who were milling about the area.

It was then that Richard locked eyes with the most stunning shade of violet he'd ever seen. Her eyes were remarkable and drew him in. He longed to go talk to her, however, Dr. Wilson was now showing them another part of the ward. Richard kept pace with his tour group, however, he was no longer paying attention to the details of the tour.

He waited 30 painful minutes until the tour was over. Cautiously, he walked up to Dr. Wilson and asked, "Who was that girl sitting in the chair?"

Richard was about to elaborate more, however, Dr. Wilson knew who he was talking about.

With a chuckle that sounded more like a cat being strangled, Dr. Wilson replied, "That is Raven. She's been here 13 years. You could speak to her, however, don't be surprised if she doesn't respond. She hasn't said a word her entire stay here."

Richard was shocked, though he managed to hide this well. _13 years without speaking?_

"Excuse me, but shouldn't medical records be kept private? I don't want my son's condition to be told to just anyone," mentioned Bruce, his voice grave.

Dr. Wilson shrugged, "She signed the paperwork allowing me to disclose her symptoms. Normally, the patients here are not allowed to sign their own forms, however, seeing as she has no family..."

Bruce nodded, accepting this answer. Richard disregarded most of the conversation, except for the part about her family. So she was all alone too? He felt a pang of sympathy for the girl.

From behind him, he could hear the young boy whimpering. _Does he also feel bad for her?_ thought Richard. Eventually, Dr. Wilson led both Bruce and the other boy's parents into his office to sign some paperwork and make final adjustments, leaving Richard and the other, scrawny boy alone. Richard decided to head back to the common area and was annoyed to find the boy following him on all fours, like an animal.

He found her in the same exact spot, staring out into the distance at the vigorous downpour of rain that was now assaulting Gotham.

Cautiously approaching her, he said, "Hi, I'm Richard."

The girl before him nodded.

"Okay, so I know you don't talk, but that's okay," began Richard, dragging a chair from a nearby metal table next to where she sat and sat down next to her, "They tell me you're called Raven here, is it okay if I call you that too?"

The girl looked surprised for a moment, no one had ever asked her preferences, really. Since she never spoke, most things were decided for her, even her name. After a brief pause, she, again, nodded.

Richard was about to say more, however, Bruce showed up, ready to say goodbye to his son.

"If you need anything, you can always call, you just have to ask one of the nurses, okay?" informed Bruce.

Richard nodded. Awkwardly, they hugged one another. Both Bruce and Richard, while really close, rarely showed signs of affection toward one another. Thinking about it now, he noticed how Bruce had never said 'I love you' to him. While Richard knew that he was, in fact, loved by his foster father, these words had yet to be exchanged between the pair.

After they broke apart from the embrace, Bruce said, "The mansion won't be the same without you, you know. I'll miss you."

Richard nodded, replying with, "I'll miss you too. Visit often, okay?"

Bruce smiled, nodding enthusiastically. But Richard knew not to get his hopes up. He knew his foster father meant well, but he was always so busy with work that Richard doubted he'd be seeing much of Bruce during his stay.

Eventually, the parents were ushered out and dinner was served. The food looked awful compared to Alfred's, the family's head butler, food. In fact, it barely looked edible. And yet, Richard noticed, that everyone there was eating the food just fine. Well, almost everyone. Raven sat, alone, poking her food. She barely ate anything. Eventually, a redhaired nurse wandered over to the girl, doing her best to urge her to eat.

Raven took only another few bites before pushing the plastic tray away, clearly indicating that she was done. With a sigh, the nurse took her tray to the cleaning area and Raven returned to her seat in front of the caged windows. Richard hurried up and scarfed down his food, eager to talk to the girl some more. As soon as his tray was whisked away, he all but ran to where she sat, now reading since it was too dark out to see much. Plus the rain continued to blur out the outside world. He quietly sat next to her in the same chair that he had earlier, which thankfully, remained there.

Raven arched a brow at him before continuing with her book of Edgar Allan Poe tales. After sitting there, ignored, Raven finally closed her book with an audible snap and sent a look at her companion. Richard grinned, glad that she was giving him silent permission to speak to her. So he did.

"You know something? I actually like thunderstorms. I find them calming," he informed, looking out at the heavy rain.

The girl looked at him curiously, but didn't say a word.

"Though, I don't think I'll like them much here," he continued, "With the bars blocking the view and all. I'm honestly not sure how you can spend so much time looking outside all day, seeing the bars would drive me insane."

_This entire place is a prison, whether you see the bars or not _she thought, bitterly.

"Hey, can you play any instruments?" he asked. Wearily, Raven nodded.

"How many?" he asked.

After a brief pause, she held up seven fingers.

"Seven? Really? That's impressive," he complemented, causing her face to burn in embarrassment.

"Can you play the piano?"

Again, she nodded. Richard then gestured to the piano in the corner of the common room area, the one thing that possessed color in the otherwise dingy room. It was a nice oak color and the lid was closed, barring the view of the keys.

"Why don't you ever play?" he questioned before rising to examine the piano. He tried to open the lid, but it wouldn't budge. It was locked. Richard wandered over to one of the nurses, asking them why.

"You have to earn time to play," she explained, "Each time you make progress, you get time to do the things you want to do. Unfortunately, most people here elect to play sports instead of the piano, so it largely goes unused."

Richard nodded, finally understanding why Raven never played. She never made progress while here, and therefore, she was barred from most of the activities. He felt another wave of sympathy for the poor girl, not only was she alone out in the real world, but she was also kept isolated here.

"That's not right, though. What about her, she should be allowed to use it too!" argued Richard.

"I'm sorry, it's just standard procedure, sir. Calm down," she warned.

Silently, Raven glided over to Richard and lightly touched him on the arm, shaking her head. He knew that she was telling him it wasn't worth it, but he still couldn't help but feel angry for her.

Before he could argue the point further, however, the red haired nurse who talked to Raven at dinner appeared, a big smile plastered on her face.

"Okay, it's time for the group session!" she called. She tried to continue, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of several chairs scraping the ground as they were dragged to the center of the room, forming a rough circle. Richard followed suit, unsure of what was going on.

"Okay, for our newcomers, group session is where we explain what's bothering us and how we feel about it. While you are not required to participate, we highly encourage it to help you relieve your anger," she explained, "Since there are some new people, let's go around and say our names. My name is Kori Anders."

She then pointed at the person sitting to her right and the patients began to say their names. When they had finally gotten around the circle, Kori announced in her peppy voice, "Alright, this week's group session can now begin. Who wants to go first?"

* * *

**Okay so I wanted to write this before I forgot about the idea. This is probably going to be a shorter story of no more than 5 chapters, at least, that's the way I see it being now. The good thing is, I know where I want this story to go and have most of the plot planned out for it already, which is a first. But for now, I hope you all enjoyed chapter 1! **

**Please review! Also, if you have any ideas, don't hesitate to tell me in a review or PM me! **

**~RukiaRae**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all! Okay so, first of all, if you read any of my other stories, I'm so sorry about the long update time...I recently started seeing someone and I've had severe writers block, so coming up with the next chapters to most of my stories just isn't happening right now. I will try to update asap, but I do want to make sure that I get my stories right, even if that means a bit more of a delay than usual...my apologies, but I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**And thank-you Rune Kensington for your review...I'm glad you think it deserves more reviews! If only...ah well, I'm glad that there are some people out there who like this story, and really, that's enough :)**

**And now, CHAPTER 2! :)**

**Finding the Enemy**

Previously:

"Okay, for our newcomers, group session is where we explain what's bothering us and how we feel about it. While you are not required to participate, we highly encourage it to help you relieve your anger," she explained, "Since there are some new people, let's go around and say our names. My name is Kori Anders."

She then pointed at the person sitting to her right and the patients began to say their names. When they had finally gotten around the circle, Kori announced in her peppy voice, "Alright, this week's group session can now begin. Who wants to go first?"

* * *

Several people discussed their issues for the week but when Kori had reached Richard in the circle, he politely declined, much to the dismay of everyone.

Still, Kori brushed it off by saying, "The healing process takes a different amount of time for everyone. I hope you'll feel up to sharing with us really soon."

Richard gave a tentative smile; her enthusiasm was truly contagious. Still, he knew that he could entrust no one with his secret. It was too precious for him to lose.

Kori continued progressing around the circle, still asking Raven if she had anything to contribute despite knowing that Raven wouldn't speak. After Raven, Kori gestured to the green teen, who was seated on all fours trying to itch himself with his leg. Kori quickly consulted her clipboard before announcing, "Everyone, this is Garfield and he thinks he's a dog."

Before she could continue, Garfield gave a happy bark. Raven shot a curious glance in his direction, so it seemed that the ward had inherited yet another silent companion. Raven smiled inwardly to herself, hopefully he would help alleviate some focus off of her.

When Kori finished the weekly session, Richard finally knew everyone on his floor. He prided himself on his photographic memory and detective skills, and consequently, was able to memorize who everyone was and what their conditions were. There was Anna, the anorexic, Nina, the depressed one, Bill, the schizophrenic one, just to name a few. There was also Gary, who was claustrophobic and Jane who was paranoid beyond belief, always muttering how the government was spying on her. Richard felt uncomfortable around most of the residents and cursed Bruce for sending him here.

He knew that Bruce was trying to be helpful, but these people were delusional, he wasn't. Deathstroke had tortured him painfully a few weeks ago. Because of that experience, Richard had been a bit more reserved and had been getting terrible nightmares that he couldn't shake. He would thrash about, imagining that he was in a battle against this enemy. In these battles, he could never win. Richard remembered each loss, they all seemed so real to him, and it was several days before Bruce could discern the fact that Richard was hallucinating. As if that wasn't bad enough, Richard hurt himself during these hallucinations. After calling in several specialists who found no cure, Bruce sent him to the asylum.

Richard sighed, he wanted out. He knew that despite having crazy nightmares, he was normal. Fully functional. And he needed to get back to the streets of Gotham as the Boy Wonder. He couldn't stand the thought of sitting idly by while Gotham relied on Bruce and Tom. He had a job to do and he was going to recover so that he could complete his job. He would stand vigilant as long as criminals prowled about his city.

Naturally, after several years of crime fighting, Richard found himself incredibly restless. He was purposeless. Well, until he had his first visit with the overseeing doctor.

It was a few days after the weekly meeting and Richard had been summoned for evaluation by Dr. Wilson. Ever since the tour, Richard had been wary of Dr. Wilson, for some reason Wilson set all of his nerves on edge. And if there was one thing Richard learned, it was to always trust his instinct.

So Richard slowly made his way to the door decorated by the plaque that read Slade Wilson, M.D., his stomach churning. When he arrived, the door stood ajar with Dr. Wilson seated across the couch in his comfortable, black leather desk chair.

"Have a seat," offered Dr. Wilson in a chilling voice.

Reluctantly, Richard sat down, waiting for the interrogation to begin.

"So your foster father told me that you think you're the superhero, Robin," began Slade.

Richard tensed up, that was supposed to be his secret, and his alone. He and Bruce were supposed to carry their identities to the grave. Richard sighed, did Bruce think that revealing their identities would help with his therapy? Because Richard just found it a dumb strategy.

Richard shook his head no, just because Bruce was careless didn't mean that he would follow suit.

Dr. Wilson sighed, wondering why he never was given the 'easy' patients to cure. He could tell this was going to take more effort than he'd planned.

"You'll never be able to progress if you don't learn to trust me," said Dr. Wilson, staring into Richard's blue eyes. Richard cringed, the expectant look reminded him of the look that Deathstroke always gave him during battle, always assessing and evaluating him. Richard suddenly went rigid, _What if Slade _is _Deathstroke? _

Suddenly, Richard found himself a whole lot less trusting of this doctor. It just _had _to be Deathstroke. It only made sense...If superheroes had their own secret identities, then the villians would too. And Deathstroke was definitely twisted enough to want to warp peoples minds, just for the fun of it. Richard solemnly promised himself that he would not crack. Too much was at stake. Instantly his thoughts flashed to Raven and he was suddenly glad for the fact that she never spoke to the criminal seated before him.

Noticing Richard's rigid posture and defensive glare, Dr. Wilson dismissed him from the office. Clearly, this patient was too wound up to be cured. This would be a long, long process. Dr. Wilson sighed. He decided to look for Richard's file once again to look for anything he might have missed.

* * *

Richard all but sprinted into the common room area, relieved to find Raven at her usual location. He rushed over and grabbed her arm gently, indicating that she should follow him. He could see the concern reflected in her eyes, but he couldn't explain quite yet. He whispered to Raven to trust him, she nodded and quickly followed him to his room. Upon arriving to the dingy, yellowed room, Raven left the door open as protocol demanded. Richard glanced warily at the door before sitting on the edge of his bed. Raven sat next to him, waiting for an explanation.

"Okay, I'm about to tell you some important things and I need you not to react, can you do that?" he whispered into her ear. Raven nodded, she had perfected the stoic look.

Richard took a deep breath before continuing, "What you are about to hear, very few people know. I trust you not to tell anyone, please don't make me regret this."

Raven cocked her head to the side and looked at him, her violet eyes boring through him, trying to guess what he was about to tell her. Richard felt awful that she was in such danger, but he knew that he had to tell her and protect her.

"Ever heard of Batman and Robin?" he asked. Raven nodded _Only in the movies though _she thought.

"I am Robin, and my dad, he's Batman. I'm here because I was tortured by Deathstroke-an evil villain of Gotham- and I just found out that he is Dr. Wilson. I think he knows who I am too and he may try to exploit our friendship. Do not share anything with that man. Hopefully I can do some investigating and have him arrested soon."

Raven's eyebrows shot up in skepticism, but it was still hard to doubt him, he sounded so sure of himself and harbored such hatred for this person. Raven wondered if he even could've conjured all of this up.

"Just...promise me you'll watch your step around him, okay?"

Raven nodded dumbly. _So he really believes this? I guess it can't hurt to be extra careful, though, no matter how absurd the claim about Dr. Wilson being a villain sounds._

Richard grinned, "Great!"

He then hugged her, beaming all the while. As long as he and Raven could stay away from that Doctor, they could make it-Richard was sure of that.

Suddenly, a large figure loomed in the doorway.

"Sorry, Mr. Grayson, but we need to borrow Raven for a bit. It won't take long, don't worry," came the eerie voice of Dr. Wilson. Richard could swear that he saw a flash of malice in the man's eyes, and didn't trust what he was going to do. Still, they had little choice seeing as two nurses flanked Slade, ready to step in if necessary. Richard watched Raven follow Slade, his feeling of happiness shattered. He began to pace wildly. Unable to take the strain, Richard poked his head out of his room to see that they took Raven to a different room than Slade's office.

Richard mashed his teeth together, _This is not good._

_

* * *

_As Raven trailed Dr. Wilson and the nurses, she found it more believable that he _could _be evil. First of all, his voice was cold and unfeeling, even by her standards. And he never showed an ounce of compassion for his patients or felt bad about some terrible treatments he'd prescribed. Yeah, he did seem like the incarnation of evil.

And suddenly, Raven was wary. Richard's words echoed in her mind..._he may try to exploit our friendship..._just what were they going to have her do?

Raven followed the group into a pristine, white room. The only furniture in the room was a chair with clamps and the table that held the wiring. Raven noticed that Kori was there, a look of pity in her emerald eyes, and it clicked. Raven's senses went on overdrive, she turned and tried to bolt, fighting the nurses that tried to restrain her. Eventually, however, she was given a sedative. As Raven felt her muscles giving way to the injected drug, she felt herself being dragged back to where the chair was. It was all over now.

* * *

To say Richard was worried was an understatement. He was petrified. Therefore, he decided to wait a bit before going to the room where Raven was being treated. He could then burst in when Raven needed help. Finally, his 8 minute wait time elapsed and he quietly took off for the room she was in.

Standing outside of the room, he heard something shake, as if someone had been slammed into an object. Richard shuddered, he figured this was some plan of theirs to get her to talk. He almost bursted in, ready to fight them off with his martial art skills, however, there were no more sounds of struggle. Richard waited and pressed his ear to the closed wooden door, trying to discern any amount of conversation.

All he heard was the clicking of the shoes inside.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" asked the voice Richard identified as Kori, the fact that she sounded concerned made Richard even more frightened.

"We need to see if her vocal cords are even functioning before we think of other treatment options, this test, while regrettable, is vital," responded Dr. Wilson's detached voice.

Curious, Richard pressed his ear further into the door, but he soon found that he didn't have to. Raven's screams were loud enough to be heard throughout the hall. Angry, Richard tried to break the locked door open, but no amount of rattling, punching, or kicking knocked the barrier over. Richard continued his attacks on the door, and continued until a team of nurses armed with a sedative arrived.

As they set Richard on his squeaky mattress, all he could think of was how he had let her down. He was a hero, meant to protect people, and he'd let her get hurt. Richard felt the hot tears of embarrassment slide down his face. He silently vowed to himself that he would make Dr. Wilson pay for hurting Raven like that.

* * *

Raven lay in her bed after the treatment, immobile. She had been through so many treatments at the asylum that she thought she'd seen the worst of the place. She clearly was wrong. The electroshock therapy had been excruciating. And if Slade was evil, Raven had the feeling that this would be the first treatment of many. For once, Raven just wanted to rot and die in the ward, anything would be preferable to more 'treatment'. Raven just looked up at the peeling ceiling, feeling like she was falling apart herself.

* * *

The next day, Richard woke up to yet another nightmare. However, instead of fighting Deathstroke, all he heard were Raven's screams in his dream. He sighed, letting his shoulders sag against the weight of the memories from the day before. Richard sat up at the edge of his bed, contemplating whether or not he should go out to the common room. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to face her after everything. Not after knowing that he didn't do his job and certainly not after hearing her screams echoed in his mind all night. He was sure that when he saw her, that he would still hear her screaming as loudly and painfully as yesterday..._So this is insanity..._

After a long period of time, definitely after lunch, Richard could hear the noises of the resident pet in the hall. He closed his eyes, trying to push out the thoughts of the jubilant 'dog' when, rather suddenly, the green kid came bounding into Richard's room. Richard eyed the boy, trying to discern what he was going to do. The kid cautiously approached Richard on all fours, pausing every so often to see what Richard would do. Eventually, when he reached Richard's knee he lunged for Richard's sleeve, getting it securely in his mouth before attempting to drag Richard out.

After several attempts, Richard was able to wrestle his shirt free of Garfield's grasp. Richard then laid back down on his bed, turning fully away from the green teen. Garfield whined, but left shortly after. Richard briefly wondered why the kid had tried to 'speak' to him at this time, but he dismissed the thought. He just needed to be alone for the time being.

* * *

**So I hope you all liked this chapter and the way the story is progressing! I'll probably include more of Beast Boy's character and the back stories next chapter! Please review! :D**

**~RukiaRae **


	3. Chapter 3

_"Have you heard about the new doctor coming to the ward? I've heard he's just dreamy."_

_"He's so gentle and good natured, and his eyes, oh my! I met him once and it was like drowning in midnight. He's like a prince charming come to life."_

Raven smiled to herself, amused by all of the comments she had been hearing about this new doctor all day. Listening to the gossiping nurses also helped her to forget the therapy and the fact that Robin was now ignoring her for no apparent reason. _Men. _On the plus side, all of the nurses were in higher spirits today meaning Raven didn't have to hear the long list of reasons why no one wanted to deal with her. They did not complain about approaching her today. They likely wanted to look helpful in case he dropped in or heard of their stellar abilities.

Not to mention, one of the nurses warned the others that getting annoyed and stressed ruined the complexion. _God forbid. _

Other than the rumours circulating about, nothing had changed. She ate her breakfast and lunch alone, as per usual (though she was surprised they didn't force Richard to eat) and she read _Wuthering Heights _for the millionth time. Honestly, she felt she could recite the book from memory by now.

The day passed without incident until dinnertime. She hadn't noticed Gar's absence but saw him bound ahead of Richard. _Richard..._

He looked like a disaster. His eyes, so cold and clear when she first had seen him, were now clouded over with trouble. Bags (baggage would be a more apt description) hung under his eyes and she could see stress lines from where he had been pursing his lips in thought.

She got up and went over to him, hoping he was reassured by her soft gaze. But he turned away and Raven recognised the guilt that overtook his face. She sighed, wishing she could be helpful and _say something _but, alas, as usual, the words never came. So she sat alone, dejectedly. What she needed was someone to talk to...or, rather, someone to talk to her. She hadn't felt the need for it before, however, Richard had changed all that. And now he was avoiding her over misplaced guilt. _What a mess.. _

After the meal, Gar came and sat by her as she read. It wasn't quite what she needed, but ruffling his green hair at random intervals and seeing his excitement helped a bit. Some of the...well, _captives _certainly was an apt word for them, yes...Some of the captives who had earned points were playing ping pong in the room adjoining her common area. It was a second common area, however, it was furnished much nicer, with plush chairs and couches, a television and two ping pong tables. There were also refreshments, such as Coca-Cola, for those who chose to waste their points on such things. Raven had only seen the room a few times, briefly, while they had tried to entice her to talk with the promise of time in the exclusive room.

Anyway, the sounds rocketing from the room as the ping pong ball whacked into the mallets began to annoy her. So did Kori's supportive cheers when one of them scored a 'victorious point'. For what probably marked the first time in 13 years, Raven set her book down and went to bed early.

* * *

Robin saw her leave but forced himself not to go after her. He had told her that Dr. Wilson would try to exploit their friendship, but he had never expected it to be so bad from the outset. Most villains at least worked up to that level of torture and gave advanced notice, Slade did not. And this scared him. If this was Slade's starting point, where would this escalate to? And could Raven handle it?

No, he told himself that he was doing the right thing. It just felt so unnatural to not talk to, or rather, at her. She was his only true companion in the place, with the exception of Gar, who had stayed in his room at the foot of the bed when dragging Robin to meals didn't work. But she was different, she understood. It was almost as though they had a bond. And he told her his deepest secret to protect her. So why was everything going all wrong?

Richard did not dare drag anyone else into this mess. Despite feeling solace in Gar's presence earlier, Robin knew he would have to keep him at arm's length too.

* * *

The next morning, Raven couldn't help but notice the mass of white that surrounded the doctor's office. It seemed every nurse on this floor was hanging around the new doctor's office, offering to help get his office sorted or give him tours. How he managed to get them away, she had no idea, but soon his door was closed and the nurses were all noticeably dejected as they went about their usual duties.

When the new doctor emerged for lunch, Raven understood what the fuss was about. He had shoulder length ebony hair and eyes of the deepest shade of ble-so deep that they almost looked onyx. Looking at them was like drowning in an ocean. But a pleasant drowning (if that's possible). He appeared very young (perhaps only a few years as a practicing physician); he certainly could not be much older than she. Noticing the blush blooming across her face, Raven forced herself to look back out the window as though nothing were wrong. She was glad that he hadn't seemed to notice her not-so-sublte ogling. Not to mention, Richard was not in the room either, a fact she also appreciated. She did not know why, but she did not want him to see her...well, un-composed. Un-Raven, so to speak.

Richard finally emerged for lunch, Gar on his heels looking dejected. She did not know why she had bothered to keep tabs on his whereabouts anymore, he did not speak to her and had not been here that long. She sighed, she would have to subtly meditate later. It was a practice her mother had learned at her yoga classes and had taught Raven to appreciate and enjoy the silence and the ability to 'teleport' anywhere with the imagination. It truly was a gift that saw her through many of the bleak days in this place.

After poking at her grey, unappetising meal for an hour (despite all of Kori's coaxing), Raven resumed sitting in her spot. Curiously, she noticed that the new doctor was going around introducing himself (as though he were an _equal _with his captives) to his patients. Refusing to let his sudden appearance in her facility bother her, she reclined her head back on her chair, closed her eyes and began to imagine the landscape of a beautiful waterfall in the trees.

How much time passed, she did not know, but she nearly fell on the floor when tapped by the unknown person. In shock, she barely registered that it was the new doctor.

He looked sheepish, "Mind if I have a word?" he asked.

His voice was calming, she liked it. After a brief pause, she nodded and gestured he sit in the seat next to her.

"My name is Dr. Garth Tempest. I see on the records your name is Raven?"

Again, she nodded.

"I have a new approach to your therapy that I would like to try with you. Would you come with me to my office?" he asked soothingly.

He got up and she followed him to his office, fighting the blush that she knew was on her cheeks. She was curious to see what he had in mind. Hopefully it would prove more pleasant than the electroshock therapy.

"Have a seat and we'll get started."

She took the only empty seat on the other side of the desk. His office was a stark contrast to that of Dr. Wilson's. The decorations were sparse (as to be expected after only having a day to unpack). Files were everywhere. Presumably, he had read them in the morning before deciding to introduce himself to his patients. On the wall there was a painting of waves lapping a sandy beach. There was one photo at his desk. It looked to be him with his parents (the resemblance was striking) on a sailboat. In the picture, Garth looked to be a teenager and still had his handsome looks. _Didn't he ever have an awkward phase? _she thought bitterly, clearly remembering her own.

He cleared his throat and immediately her attention returned to him. A blush formed on her cheeks at her carelessness, she should not have gotten so carried away inspecting his things.

"From what I've been told, your mind is not at fault. That is why I want you to get in the habit of using these."

He produced a chalkboard, chalk, and an eraser. Gingerly, she took the items.

"I can see in your file that you were once given notebook paper and pens for the same purpose, however, you did nothing with them. I hope you'll use this. I got you a medium that you can erase so no one can pick it up and read what you've wanted to say. This is for your use alone, communicate with who you want. Or write to yourself. I just want you to start getting comfortable expressing yourself."

She arched her brow as if to ask why.

"Why?" he asked, picking up on her silent cue, "I hope that someday you'll feel comfortable communicating with me in this manner. In this way, we can really assess your mental acuity and maybe arrange for you to take classes since it says here that you probably don't have more than a middle school education. Only if you want, of course," he replied, looking at...no _through.. _her.

She nodded. After a few moments of awkward silence, he dismissed her.

Looking down at her new items, Raven felt thrilled. She returned to her room with the intention of writing only to discover that, being 13 years out of practice, her writing was sloppy and ugly. _Thank-god you didn't try to write in front of anyone _she thought, getting to work at re-learning how to write the alphabet. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Richard's presence until she felt the weight of him sitting at the edge of her bed.

Quickly erasing her chicken scratch handwriting, she quirked a brow.

"Hey, Ravennn," he began hesitantly, drawing out the last syllable of her name, "Can we talk?"

* * *

**I know it's short (have to go-friend's birthday event) but I wanted to update this story really quickly before I left for those still interested in reading it! By the way, I've finally figured out where I want this story to go so updates may not take forever? (no promises). Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**~RukiaRae**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm on a roll! Wooo! So after almost forever I've updated this one! And I've finally figured out what I'm going to do with it! I think for the Aquaven fans I'm going to make a separate story called The Ward ...It'll have the same chapters for now and the same premise but, after this chapter, I'll update them separately since it'll follow a bit of a different plot with more aquaven moments than rob/rae ones...**

**So, if you're interested, that will go up soon (and although they'll be the same now, they'll start to take different paths soon)...**

**And now, the next chapter! :D**

Last Chapter:

She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Richard's presence until she felt the weight of him sitting at the edge of her bed.

Quickly erasing her chicken scratch handwriting, she quirked a brow.

"Hey, Ravennn," he began hesitantly, drawing out the last syllable of her name, "Can we talk?"

* * *

**Changes**

"Hey, Rae," he began, nervously fiddling with her off-white bedsheets, "So that new doctor came around and we talked for a bit and, without telling him any specifics, I told him what was on my mind and he urged me to come talk to you."

Taking a steadying breath, he continued, "Garth said that you might not understand the reasons I'm not speaking to you; that you'd gained your first friend and probably now felt abandoned."

Sneaking a peek at her face to gauge her reaction, Richard interpreted her incredulous look as saying '_well, duh_'.

"I'm sorry," he said sympathetically, "It just scared me for you that _right_ after I told you everything they went after you, I was trying to protect you by not getting you involved further."

His shoulders slumped with his misplaced guilt, "I'm trying to do the right thing but I feel like I don't know what that is anymore."

At a loss for words (as per usual), Raven did the only thing she could to comfort him. She hugged him. He seemed surprised at first but, after a brief moment, wrapped his arms around her small frame.

"Forgive me?" he asked and was elated to feel her nod against his chest.

Noticing the chalk and small green chalkboard laying discarded on her bed, he asked, "Are these for you?"

She nodded.

"The new doctor thought of this, right?"

Again she nodded.

He beamed, "Good, hopefully it'll keep you out of the other treatments."

She smiled and shrugged as though to say '_we'll see'_.

"You want to go to your spot?" he asked, eager to spend time with her.

Part of her understood he was still feeling guilty, but she couldn't help wanting to stay and practice her writing. Still, figuring she'd have plenty of time to do that (after all, she wasn't exactly going anywhere) she decided to follow him out to the dingy common room.

* * *

The next few days continued in the same fashion as before, only with Raven making time each day to practice neatening up her illegible scrawling.

She was also thrilled to find out that she had been temporarily assigned under Garth's care, meaning her weekly meetings with Dr Slade were at an end for now. Despite the uncertainty, after all she knew it was possible the visits could start up again at any time, she was grateful for the reprieve.

She also noted, happily, that Garth ensured she received 'Positivity Points' for participating in his programme. Whenever he caught her practicing, he would always make sure to add another point to her score, a fact that meant she would be able to spend her new points on new activities. While it was not necessary for her survival at the ward (after all, she had gotten on just fine for 13 years without participating in this system), it was nice to be able to consider doing something new.

Part of her also guessed, correctly, that Richard had something to do with this. She concluded, after his failed attempt at getting her any privileges on his first night at the ward that, when he saw the opportunity with a new, caring doctor, that he would suggest it as a reward for her. Because of this, she decided when she accumulated enough points she would spend them on time with the piano, playing some of the songs she remembered for her friend.

Despite being eternally grateful to both Richard and Garth for their aid in shaking up some of the monotonous routines of the ward, she still had yet to communicate with any of them. It wasn't that she didn't want to, but rather, was still trying to figure out whether or not she wanted to open that floodgate. After all, she couldn't write one message and decide not to write any further.

For Garth, if she refused to write again, there would be no way to prove he was actually telling the truth to any of the other medics in the ward. And she wasn't sure she wanted the ward knowing she was now willing to communicate. SHe was not a trained monkey and did not want to be forced to write in front of the other staff to prove she was improving with treatment. As for Richard, once she started communicating with him, if she ever chose to stop, he might take it to mean she was angry. Or would feel disappointed, something the socially stunted girl was not sure she wanted to deal with.

So she practiced around herself, writing out the alphabet and, as the week progressed, writing out lengthy passages from the books she'd read. Sometimes, in the solitude of her room, she would write out random passages from the books she thought she knew by heart and then compare them side by side with the book (which she always took with her to her room for these exercises) to see how accurate her memory was. It wasn't a revolutionary game but also helped stimulate her brain and helped her to realise that her memory wasn't entirely infallible.

Sometimes, also in her room, she tried drawing with the chalk. It wasn't the best artistic medium but it gave her yet another thing to do when she felt the need for something new. As a woman, her mother insisted she be brought up learning the womanly ways-how to keep a home, how to entertain, how to cook and serve a proper tea, how to raise children, etc. It was due to her well-travelled father (well, actually only biologically a step-father but still better than her actual father), who often visited Asia, that she was also taught an appreciation for culture and the arts and she was trained in several artistic mediums. She learned how to sketch and paint, how to ballroom dance, how to play several instruments (some from Asia, such as the Qin) and how to read. He always brought her books on histories or cultures and encouraged her to read anything, even fiction-which he claimed always held some grain of truth.

It still amused her to think of how different her mother and father were. They would often get into fights about what to teach her. She vividly remembered once, when her father was out travelling, as part of her mother's teachings, she had to care exclusively for her three cousins Melvin, Timmy and Teether for a week. She had no help and they were quite young, Melvin was probably only 8, Timmy 4 or 5 and Teether was probably just over a year old at the time. She smiled to herself recalling how impossible it'd seemed-they were monsters, each of them vying for her attention and unhappy when it was given to one of the other munchkins.

And yet, somehow, she had managed to bond with them. They eventually took a liking to her and stopped making her life a living hell and, in return, she'd gone out of her way to reward them for their good behaviour.

She frowned, hearing an "ahem" that pulled her from her sentimental memories.

It was Garth, looking sheepish and giving her a small apologetic smile as he usually did when he could see that he'd disturbed her in some way.

Returning a small smile of her own she stood and gathered her chalkboard, chalk and eraser before following Garth into his office for their fourth visit-a part of her new regimen of bi-weekly meetings.

In these meetings, since Raven usually wouldn't speak or contribute, not much happened. Raven usually sat in one of the plushy periwinkle chairs and looked away trying not to look like an idiot while Garth would usually spend the time going over files, looking up occasionally to see if Raven would change her mind about speaking-always without success.

Still, knowing it must have been a bit frustrating for him, Raven enjoyed the meetings. They were comfortably silent; he never pried and was ready to let her do things on her terms, a fact she was grateful for. She knew she ought to reward his faith in her by writing something, but she wasn't sure even what she would say. So, each meeting they sat in silence for about 40 minutes before Garth would eventually give up and allow her to leave.

Today was no different. Raven spent the 40 minutes examining the details of his office which, since day one, had always been comfortably messy. 'Lived in' was how Raven described it to herself. Most of his files were put away neatly into the filing cabinet, with a few exceptions always piled on the corner of his desk. He had a few stray papers cluttering his sandalwood desk, which resembled an 'L' shape. Part of it lined the wall (with storage space above for a printer and paper) and, after about 4 feet it turned jutting out partitioning him from his potential guests.

His family photo rested on the unused portion of the desk that lined the wall, which she always looked at in their visits. It was always kept away from the mess-as though it were important enough not to be drowned in papers. In front of the photo he had also added a nice sea-shell that was about the size of a fist and had pretty rose-coloured lines decorating its surface. She was also quite amused when he'd put a rock garden in his office. It sat next to the family photo and was a small, shallow black wooden box filled with sand (which he carefully drew designs in with his paperclips) and pebbles.

The only thing on that portion of the desk that resembled anything work-like was a calendar pasted to the wall. It almost looked like a small shrine to his out-of-work hours.

Looking up and catching her looking at his sparse decorations, again, Garth came up with a new plan.

"Hm," he began, "It's just occurred to me that I'm being completely unfair."

She frowned, not following his train of thought at all. Not to mention, she was not used to hearing him speak in their meetings and this interruption was jarring-a fact that prevented her from thinking about what he'd said and instead making her focus on the fact that he'd said anything at all.

"I'm expecting you to take a big step without reciprocating anything in return," he explained, "How can I expect you to want to share anything with me when I haven't had the courtesy to share anything of myself with you. I'm sorry about overlooking that."

Now she was really confused. Not a single nurse or doctor had offered to tell her about themselves and they had certainly never apologised for it. Or anything. They were above their patients; he was the first to try and reach out to her. She wasn't sure how she felt about it; whether she ought to trust him or not.

"I'm not sure exactly what you'd like to know," he began suddenly feeling her heavy gaze fall on him, "So how about I tell you the story behind that picture? Does that seem like a good place to start."

Dumbfounded, Raven nodded waiting for him to begin his tale.

"My parents met when my dad, volunteering as a local lifeguard, saved my mom on a stormy day. My mom, new to sailing, went on a sailboat with some of her other inexperienced friends. They'd sailed far, adventurous and eager and, by the time they noticed the storm rolling in, it was too late.  
They sailed as close to the shore as they could before the boat capsized. Several professionals went into the water, rescuing everyone but my mother. When he heard someone was still missing, my dad, a retired olympic swimmer, went to find my mother, Tulsa despite protests that it was too dangerous. He nearly died but he managed to get them both to shore where they were given warm clothes and blankets."

Raven sat, transfixed. It wasn't what she would associate with him at all. His dad was an olympic swimmer? It didn't seem to fit with his career at all.

"My parents started dating shortly after," he continued, despite the unnerving silence, "My dad did everything he could to teach my mother to love the water as he did. He also taught me and, although I'm a medic, I go swimming often. It helps me to clear my head.

Anyway, that was the first time my mother acquiesced to letting my father take me near the water. She always felt that if they ever encountered another storm that she wouldn't be able to hold her own, that my father may not be able to save both of us if it came down to it.

I remember she was so nervous the entire trip since it was the first time I wasn't swimming in a contained pool. My dad seemed like he was going to tear out his hair. The picture was taken right when we arrived-when we were all still happy and excited. All the other photos are of my mom worrying, me elated with my new freedom and my dad going out of his mind to help my mom," he finished with a laugh.

Raven smiled at that. In the photo his father looked strong-and his strong jaw fit with his physique. He also had unkempt blonde hair that flowed over his blue eyes and blonde stubble decorating his face-further contributing to the 'manly' appearance. She found it amusing that such a (for lack of a better term) strong man could be so frazzled by the petite woman next to him. She probably looked smaller than she was because of the fact that she was standing next to Garth's father. Still, she was slender with olive skin (whether natural or from all the time outside swimming, Raven couldn't say) but it complemented her charcoal hair and dark brown eyes.

Looking at the clock and noticing their time was almost up, Garth said, "I'll think of some stories to share with you at our meetings and, hopefully, you'll begin to trust me soon with your words."

Raven gave him a small smile in return and was surprised when he added, "I'll also see about getting you the 5 more points you need for the piano."

Grateful (a word she was using with more frequency) she left his office.

* * *

True to his word, he had gotten her the points she needed by dinner that night. For once, she wasn't dying for dinner to end. Sure the meal was as gray and tasteless as usual but she was nervous about playing for Richard after the meal. She felt inadequate now and, upon more thought, she was also reminded of the fact that it had been years since she practiced.

She prayed there was still a shred of talent in her.

When Kori whisked her tray away after another night of unsuccessfully pressing Raven to eat more than a few bites of the night's concoction, Raven timidly walked over to where Richard was sitting. Pulling on his shirt sleeve, she indicated for him to follow her. Getting the attention of the nearest nurse and pointing to the wooden piano, Raven felt her nerves crescendo as the lid was popped open and there were no longer anything standing between her and playing.

Gathering sheet music that was located under the lid of the piano bench, she took some time picking the song and arranging the sheet music. When she felt Richard sit down next to her, she inhaled a steadying breath and began to play.

* * *

**Drop me a line and let me know what you think! :)**

**~RR**


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